Dragons of Siberia (The Dashkova Memoirs Book 7)

by Thomas K. Carpenter

  Clothes were brought for my use. The local make suited me, as the caribou hide was warmer than my old clothes and helped me fit in. Not that anyone would confuse me for a local, since I couldn't speak the language and had the sharp look of a southerner.

  My introduction to this fact came when the old woman who fit my clothes spit on my doorway before she left. Ana noted the incident, but said nothing.

  When Rowan Blade arrived, she was shown immediately to my new abode. Her clothes were unmarked and whole, as if she were just setting out on an adventure, not in the midst of one.

  She held me at arm's length, examining my face for signs of sickness. She smelled sweet like flowers.

  "You are whole," she said with a smile.

  I waggled my two damaged fingers at her. "Not completely. I'm afraid my flute playing days are over."

  "You were always terrible at that instrument," she said with a wink. "Tell me how they healed you."

  I explained as much as I knew. When I got to the part about the earth dragon, Rowan actually moved to the rough wooden chair next to the fireplace and sat down, looking forlorn.

  "Is there a problem?" I asked.

  "No," she said, looking up at me, trying to reassure me. "Go on."

  When I finished, Rowan said nothing, her bloodred lips pursed in thought. She could have been posing for a painting she sat so still.

  "What are you thinking?" I asked.

  "It's all very interesting," she said.

  "Interesting? I was eaten by a dragon, healed of frostbite, minus a pinch of flesh, and found wandering naked where Ana said there are no other tunnels. If that is merely interesting, I'd hate to see an eventful day," I said.

  Rowan ignored my outburst. Her hands sat patiently in her lap. "And you promised this earth dragon to slay its foe?"

  "I had no choice," I said.

  "There are always other options," she said, which was true. I had not told her about what the dragon shown me. "You should not have promised yourself to it."

  "Did you expect me to let myself die? Or lose my hands and arms, living like a cripple for the rest of my life?"

  "It might have been the better choice," she said, her sudden coldness leaving me unsteady.

  "How can you say this?" I asked.

  She scowled, as if trying to remember something in her past or a fact that was important. "I don't know. Something...well, I don't know." She shook her head, and a smile bloomed on her lips. "Forget that I said anything. It was a hard journey, and I was worried about you the whole time. Let us rejoice that you are healed. Would your daughter allow a feast in honor of your recovery?"

  "The folks do not wish me to be here, nor has Anton forgiven me, so I do not think that a wise course," I said.

  "Maybe Ana will let the three of us enjoy food and drink. We have much to speak about," she said.

  I agreed and went to arrange it while Rowan rested. Ana brought dried meat that took a lot of chewing to swallow, bitter roots, and a few greens that had been harvested beneath pine trees, hidden from the snows. She apologized for the meager fare.

  Ana explained the situation with the vidustana in great detail. Once, many generations ago, the two peoples had been one village, living together in harmony, utilizing the strength of earth and sky for their mutual benefit. But something had happened that split them into separate camps. No one spoke of it, which Ana assumed meant that no one knew what it was.

  Ana also told us about how she and Anton had come to the village. When they first fled to Siberia, they took jewels and gold to make their lives easier, but before long the gold ran out, and the jewels were stolen. They fell on hard times, living on cabbage soup and the rabbits and squirrels Anton could take down with his rifle.

  On a hunting trip, Anton saved the son of the previous khan from a sky people raiding party. After that, they were welcomed into the village. Anton helped the Yaran take down a larger enemy group using military tactics, gaining respect and position with the old khan.

  Ana found she had magical powers after an encounter with the village shaman. She didn't explain how, but I suspected something had triggered her abilities, like a bath in the spectral cannon's cooling pool had triggered mine.

  About ten years ago, when both the khan and his son were killed by the dragon, Anton was made khan. Ana became the people's shaman not long after.

  Ana asked me about my life after they'd left. I indulged her with stories about Europe, leaving out the parts with Pavel. My attention to my son's life had always bothered Ana, and I had no desire to dredge up old wounds.

  The tales of America brought many questions. I said nothing of my role in the Society or the general fight against Veles, only explaining my opposition to the Otherlanders. Ana found the descriptions of the Otherlanders most interesting, which reminded me about Haida's desiccated Uthlaylaa hand.

  I was given no opportunity to ask about it, as a heavy pounding erupted on the door. A red-coated guard stood outside.

  Ana relayed the message with a stern face. "The khan wishes to see you."

  Chapter Fourteen

  I regretted the drinks on the walk to the khan's hall. Smoky torches lit uneven streets. The "sky" was dark, which indicated it was night above. When the sun was shining, the underside of the ice glowed a deep blue.

  An ice pillar stood like a sentinel behind the hall. It rose into the chilly darkness.

  Laughter burst out of the open door as we entered, quieting briefly before returning to full-throated noise. The khan's men were too drunk to be bothered, although a few watched Rowan with naked desire. The village had little food, but plenty of alcohol, a dangerous combination.

  A large man with a beet-red nose called out to Rowan in his language. I couldn't understand the words, but the intent was clear when he stood up and thrust his hips in her direction.

  Anton watched in a bored pose from his chair. His companion was absent, probably tired of the drunken revelry and tending their child. The khan was neither amused nor cross, which bothered me more than anything.

  Dealing with the khan had to wait. Rowan held her hand in front of her as if she were a man taking a piss, then feigned that she was fondling herself. Once she had their attention, she made a snapping motion like she was breaking a tree limb.

  The room erupted with laughter. Red Nose's companions slapped the tables with their palms and mugs. Anton watched with muted interest.

  Red Nose's face turned to a sneer. He marched to Rowan. He was a large man—not fat, but he had the belly of a bull.

  He grabbed Rowan by the shoulder, yanking her around. I looked to Anton, who seemed to be enjoying the show.

  Rowan didn't appear stressed. Rather she was laughing, which enraged Red Nose more. When she grabbed his crotch and squeezed, he yelped and brought his forearm down across her head.

  She went down, and I tried to go to her side, but Ana held me back. Her expression warned me away from interfering.

  Rowan was curled in a heap on the floor, hair hanging like a waterfall over her face. Her shoulders were heaving, her hair dancing. At first I thought she was crying, but then I realized she was laughing.

  She rose up like an apparition, flinging the hair from her face. She had a wanton smile on her lips and beckoned Red Nose over. He seemed confused at first, but grinned at the challenge and approached. I sensed something was wrong, but couldn't pinpoint it.

  As Red Nose reached Rowan, she surged forward, pressing her lips against his, grabbing the back of his head and pulling it down towards her. His muscles loosened, and he went slightly limp.

  The soldiers cheered and pounded on the tables. The tension had turned to celebration. Everyone was enjoying the display—except the khan.

  Then I realized what I'd seen. A flash in Rowan's eyes before she grabbed Red Nose. It was the gaze of a predator, burning red.

  Red Nose didn't seem to mind the kiss, but he wasn't grabbing Rowan either. That was when I knew Rowan wasn't kissing. I knew she could take blood
from others to feed her powers, but I'd never seen her perform the deed on an unwilling subject.

  Anton was sitting straight up, arms gripping the sides of his throne. The laughter and cheering slowly declined, until there was silence.

  Then Rowan pushed away Red Nose, whose lips were pale and face ashen. He fell backwards, crashing into a table. Swords and spears were pointed in our direction, waiting for the khan's command.

  "Don't worry," said Rowan, in passable Russian. "He's just sleeping. But he'll have a terrible hangover for a few days."

  Then she turned to the soldiers and said something in the Yaran language. Their eyes went wide, and a few made warding gestures. Stealing Red Nose's essence had given Rowan the knowledge of his Yaran language.

  "You're not a witch," said Anton, hunched forward, undeterred by the display.

  "No, I am not," she said, again in Russian, wiping her bloodred lips with the back of her hand. "Pray you never find out what I really am."

  "I could have you killed," said Anton, leaning back and showing her a pistol he had on his hip.

  "A minor inconvenience," she said. "And when I returned, I would lay waste to you and everyone you love."

  Tension quivered between them. We were headed towards a fight. I just hoped Ana sided with us and that we could get away before the wolves of shadow arrived, because I had every intention of using my magic.

  The khan clapped his hands once. "Then it's good we're on the same side."

  I let out a breath and heard Ana do the same from my right.

  "Why did you call us, Anton?" asked Ana.

  The whole room was watching the exchange. Anton made a gesture towards Red Nose's motionless body, and another letting them know to continue the revelry. A few of the soldiers moved to Red Nose and dragged him from the room.

  "You hadn't reported back since visiting the Great One," he said.

  "Don't you know?" I asked.

  A flicker of worry passed across his eyes. I hadn't known before if the Great One spoke to him regularly, but the worry told me there was no communication.

  "It's best if you tell me," he said.

  "In return for my healing, the Great One wishes the sky dragon dead," I said.

  Anton blinked a few times before breaking into laughter. "He might as well have eaten you and gotten it over with."

  "No confidence in my abilities?" I asked.

  "Apologies, Princess Dashkova. While you were a skilled manipulator in the Russian court, I cannot picture you as a dragon slayer," he said.

  "Many things have changed since then. For you, for me, for Ana," I said.

  He tilted his head as if to say he half agreed.

  "I think it more likely you'll perish in the attempt, but I'm willing to help you try," he said with a smirk.

  He would help as long as it meant getting rid of me.

  "Since I have been tasked by your patron, I require your assistance," I said.

  His gaze narrowed. "What assistance shall you require?"

  "Gear, hunting supplies, rifles if you have them, snowshoes, those sorts of things. But more importantly, we'll need our companions. We left them with the intent to find the nearest village for supplies and then return," I said.

  Anton shifted on his throne. "Companions? I don't like the sound of this. We have game to hunt, stores to fill. If you didn't know, winter is approaching. Siberia is no place to be wasteful."

  "Are you planning on hiding here forever?" I asked. "I've seen the empty houses. This place will be a graveyard in another generation. Is this the leadership you provide?"

  Anton rose to his feet, face red with anger. "Don't you dare question me. Without me they would have perished long ago. I was the one that convinced the Great One to save them. I could have returned to court long ago, but I sacrificed so that they might live."

  He crashed back down in his seat, grabbing his mug and drinking sloppily from it. I felt sympathy for Anton in that moment because I'd seen the truth in his outburst.

  Leadership was both a blessing and a curse. He'd given up his old life to protect his new people. I could see why he had much loyalty amongst them.

  Ana squeezed my hand briefly. Her maudlin expression was filled with old pains and a dash of hope. I didn't want to let her down.

  "Please forgive my harsh statement, Anton. You know as well as anyone that I have a sharp tongue. I shouldn't have questioned your sacrifice. But I did so in service of our mutual goal. I promise you that our companions are as hearty as we. Retrieve them for us and our chances will increase many-fold," I said.

  He shook his head dismissively. "Who can I send? How will I even find them? We're calling the hunters back from the outposts before the heavier storms start. After that, no one will be able to travel north. If we didn't have that damn sorcerous storm to the south, we'd have more options, but that cursed thing has kept us hemmed in."

  Rowan stepped forward. "I will go with your people. We won't need a large group. A couple of warriors who can move quickly."

  Anton frowned. "That's a four-week journey there and back. You'll be trapped by the storms before you can turn around."

  Rowan had a sly smile on her lips. "The trip won't take as long as you think. I'm a resourceful woman."

  "I can't make anyone go with you," he said.

  "Ask them," she said.

  Reluctantly, Anton got the attention of his warriors, and then he spoke to them in the Yaran language. They seemed to not understand the task until Rowan followed with a short speech of her own.

  To my surprise, a woman in back volunteered. It was Haida, the woman with the steel blue eyes and the desiccated hand of the Uthlaylaa around her neck. Once she did, two men stepped forward, both with the crimson caribou coats that signified they were loyalists.

  "Well, there you go," said Anton sardonically. "You have your team. Do not misuse them."

  "Thank you for your generosity," said Rowan, bowing respectfully.

  Anton turned to me. "What are you going to do?"

  "I need to understand the enormity of the task. I should scout east towards the Nenets," I said.

  Immediately, my daughter stepped forward. "I'll go with her."

  Anton flattened his lips. "My wife and my mother-in-law together headed into danger, is this wise?"

  The title of wife made Ana's lips twitch.

  "Do you propose to join us?" I asked.

  "No." He chuckled. "It wouldn't be prudent to put all our resources into such a foolish adventure. But I will send someone in my stead. Koryak can be your companion. The three of you did so well to reach me with great haste when you fell ill."

  I smiled and feigned agreement. Despite our mutual goals, I didn't completely trust Anton or Koryak. But I had little choice.

  "You are wise and generous," I said, giving him an honorific nod of the head.

  He flicked his hand in our direction. "You should rest then. I expect you'll want to head out tomorrow evening when it's dark."

  I shook my head. "We'll be leaving in the morning."

  "By the gods, why would you do such a thing?" he asked. "Go at night when it's safer."

  "I want to see the dragon."

  Chapter Fifteen

  Rowan left a few hours after the meeting with the khan. Unlike me, she had every intention of traveling during the night. She took the time to gather gear, utilizing the village's resources to make the journey back.

  "What are you going to do if you get caught by a storm?" I asked.

  She raised an eyebrow. "You doubt me?"

  "Not doubt. Curious," I said. "Can you use the hut to make the return journey?"

  It was only Rowan and I. My daughter had returned to her house to rest, so we felt free to speak of the hut.

  Her eyes crinkled at the corners. "It is my intention. It can't travel far, but possibly I can bring it across this short distance."

  "Is that why you took life's essence from that warrior?" I asked.

  Bringing it up seemed to dampen
her mood. She walked to the table and began putting her gear into her pack.

  "Not even a hundred men could have enough for the hut. That was for me," she said, shame tainting her voice. "I hope that didn't disturb you."

  "Not at all," I lied. "You've given Anton a lot of doubt, which is good. It'll keep him off balance."

  "You don't trust him?" she asked.

  "He was an ambitious soldier before I ruined his career," I said. "Ambition and revenge are a dangerous cocktail. While I hope that our mutual goal will keep him from pursuing that revenge, I have no intention of letting my guard down."

  Rowan nodded. She moved towards me in a manner that made me uneasy.

  "Try not to struggle," she said, grabbing my head with both hands.

  She planted a kiss on my lips. Not a sensual or even platonic kiss, but an aggressive mashing of the lips, as if she were trying to flatten bread between us.

  I did struggle, kicking her in the shin as hard as I could, but Rowan held on tight with a powerful grip.

  Then something happened that was beautiful, terrible, and overwhelming, all at once. Through the conduit of our lips, an essence passed into me. I knew where it'd come from the moment the sensation of elation filled me. It was what she'd taken from the warrior, Red Nose.

  I stopped struggling when the feeling reached my chest. It was like she'd blown a narcotic smoke into my lungs, and I shivered in the afterglow.

  When she pulled away, I almost grabbed her to plant my lips back on her face, to get a little more of it. Then I realized what I had been about to do, and my cheeks warmed with embarrassment.

  "That's what it feels like?" I asked, still hungry for more.

  She nodded, darkness haunting her eyes.

  "How do you resist?" I asked.

  "That is my curse," she said.

  "Is that why you did that? To show me how it feels?" I asked.

  She laughed. "No. No one should have to know that. I did it for another reason. Haven't you noticed yet?"

  It took me a moment, but then I realized we were speaking in the Yaran language.

  "It was another reason that I took it from him. So we could speak in their language," she said.